


Model Con or: Desperately Broke and Hopelessly Overlooked

by smutdouble



Series: On Exhibit [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Darkshipping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutdouble/pseuds/smutdouble
Summary: Mutou Yami wants to be a model, but every avenue he explores leads to a dead end. One day someone finally responds to his application. The job sounds a little kinky, but he does look good in leather...Prequel to On Exhibit. Technically a prequel to Pulling Trains as well, but the order of the prologues matters less.





	Model Con or: Desperately Broke and Hopelessly Overlooked

**Author's Note:**

> Where Pulling Trains was about train chikan (thanks for the word, EternalSailorDianamon) tropes, Model Con is about casting couch tropes. I did try to make Yami as smart/sharp as the character is supposed to be, but some liberties had to be taken for the sake of the trope. I hope it turned out okay.
> 
> On a side note, I'm also trying to hammer out a oneshot about how the Ishtars first met "Akiefa." I realized laying some backstory ground work is going to save me a lot of exposition later on in On Exhibit.

It was an apartment building downtown. Yami paused on the sidewalk outside, glancing from the address in his phone to the address on the side of the building. Maybe he should've asked someone to come with him. He didn't have time to call anyone now. He could leave. Or could he? He didn't have a backup plan.

He'd thought social media would make it easier to become a model. People didn't have to call around with head-shots anymore, or move to a starlet city and hope someone important discovered them waiting tables. They just had to put themselves all over the internet and wait for someone to find them. The people who were successful made it look so easy. After three years, however, vlogs hadn't worked. No one cared what a poor teenager working in his grandfather's failing game store had to say about anything. He had a passion and a sense for make-up and fashion, but he couldn't afford the overhead to start a vlog about either of those things. Reaction videos were nearly free to make, but they were a dime a dozen and comedy wasn't his forte. 

He needed a job. Something that could make some real money, fast. This was the only job listing that had bothered to respond to him. Even if it sounded shady as hell, he needed to at least look.

A carefully manicured finger skimmed the list of buttons until it found and pressed the number he wanted. 

"This is Akhenadin's studio, do you have an appointment?" A male voice asked over the speaker. His accent sounded a bit foreign, but he spoke Japanese clearly enough.

He could still leave. Yami took a breath. "I'm Mutou Yami. I emailed you about the modeling job."

There was a pause. "Ah, yes, Mutousan. Third floor, end of the hall. Come on up."

The speaker buzzed and the door clicked. Yami stepped into the lobby. Aside from the lack of an elevator, the place looked clean and modern. The environment didn't do much to calm his nerves, though. Pre-interview jitters, he told himself as he climbed the stairs. It was hard, putting himself out to be physically judged. It would be hard for anybody. He forced his shoulders and chin into a confident posture as he made his way down the hall. 

He knocked. The door opened. He hesitated, blinking. Red eyes? Who had...

The albino smiled. "Mutousan?"

Yami bowed slightly, lingering with his eyes down for just a moment, to collect himself. "Yes. I presume you're Akhenadinsan?"

"Yeah. That's me." He stepped aside to give the young man room to enter. "Feel free to get comfortable."

Yami glanced around before crossing the threshold. It was a studio apartment. The tiny kitchen was little more than a fridge, a sink, and a coffee machine. The door to the bathroom stood open. A couch and two soft chairs flanked a coffee table at the end of the room closest to the kitchen. The rest of the room was full of carefully organized camera and lighting equipment. "Your studio is an apartment?" 

"I know it's unusual, but it's a lot cheaper and more convenient that renting a larger space. The kitchen and the full bathroom are really useful when I've been up all night editing."

Yami sat in the folding chair by the door to take off his shoes. 

"Can I get you anything?" Akhenadin asked, heading toward the kitchen. "Tea? Coffee?"

Accepting drinks before they'd barely exchanged more than their names didn't seem like a great idea. "I'm watching my weight," Yami said. "I'm on a very strict diet." It wasn't a lie.

Akhenadin laughed. "You and everyone else that comes through here. Competitive perfection, right? It's cool, I get it."

Yami sat in one of the chairs and brushed imaginary wrinkles out of his dark, skinny jeans. The albino set a can of mineral water and a mug of coffee on the table. Yami picked up the can and looked at it. It was sealed. The ingredients and nutrition information all said it was normal mineral water. "May I have a glass?" Yami asked. 

"Sure." Akhenadin retrieved one from the kitchen. 

The can hissed when he opened it. Yami poured the entire can into the glass. It looked like mineral water. Smelled like mineral water. Tasted like mineral water. He relaxed a bit. This guy probably wasn't looking to get anything past him, but if he tried, Yami was confident he could handle it. 

Akhenadin sat on the couch with a tablet and adjusted his glasses. After quietly scrolling on it for a moment, he said. "I noticed you're almost done with high school." He looked up. "Are you thinking about going to college?" 

"We never talked about that. How did you..."

Akhenadin showed Yami the tablet, with a browser open to his instagram page. "Isn't this is the Domino High School uniform?"

Oh. Of course. "Yes." He took a sip of water, stalling to recompose himself. "I was planning on putting off college to focus on modeling. It depends on how all of this works out."

Akhenadin cocked his head. "You didn't lie about your age, did you?"

"No." Yami frowned. "Why?"

Akhenadin shrugged. "You looked nervous when I brought up high school."

"I never thought I'd run into a stranger that actually looked at my social media."

"Ah. I see." He returned to scrolling on the tablet. "I look up all of the models I interview. I like to see what they do on their own. Especially the ones without a lot of followers. It's more honest, you know?" He looked up again, grinning. "You do your own hair and make-up, right?"

"Yes." 

"See, that's great. That's what I like. A lot of a photographers want," he paused, gesturing vaguely with one hand, "like pretty poseable dolls. People who are good at following instructions, but there's no realness in that. No," he gestured in the air between them, "creative exchange. I like to collaborate. It keeps me from getting into a creative box."

"I am hoping to move into designing or make-up artistry when I'm older."

"Yeah, you look like you could be good at it." Akhenadin looked back down at the tablet. "It's a good thing, too. That five year window for success is a real bitch. A lot of people hit the wall fast and don't really recover."

"It can't be that bad," Yami said. He'd heard rumors that a modeling career could have a short shelf-life, but he'd never really thought about the cut off.

"I guess the people that are only doing it for a pay check like doing furniture ads or whatever. A lot of people miss the more glamorous fashion model lifestyle, though."

"Hm." Yami took a long sip of his water. Five years. The three years he'd already been struggling had gone by so fast. And he was already at a disadvantage from being short. He'd learned that the rough way.

The pale man laughed. "Don't look so nervous. You look young, and if worse comes to worse you've got some sort of family business to fall back on, right? You'll be fine."

Yeah... The game shop... Yami's stomach twisted. He tried to calm it with more water. 

"Well." Akhenadin put the tablet on the table and crossed his arms on his knees. "We'll have to explore your make-up talents later. You contacted me because I was looking for a fetish-wear model."

"Yes." Yami shook off the mood the topic had put him in and tried to shift gears.

"So I can assume you're comfortable being at least partially naked on camera?"

"Of course. It's not like I have anything to be ashamed of, right?"

Akhenadin clapped his hands once. "Loving the confidence. Have you had any experience modeling before?"

No. None. "Not professionally. I do dress up for fun on my instagram, and a third of my closet is leather." A third of his very small closet was fake leather, but it looked good on camera. Hopefully good enough.

"Are you taking any drugs?" Akhenadin's tone was casual. Dry.

"What?" The question surprised Yami. He hadn't been expecting it. "No. Of course not."

"A lot of models take uppers to stay skinny and energetic. It makes them stupid and distracted during shoots. I consider that sort of thing a disrespect of my time and won't tolerate it."

The red eyes had gone a little hard around the edges. Yami didn't know what to make of the subtle mood shift. "They can also be terrible for your skin and teeth. I assure you, I'm very careful of what I put in my body."

"That's good, but anyone can say words and I've been lied to before. I'd like to check you for track marks, anyway."

Yami held out his arms, wrists up, but Akhenadin shook his head.

"Professionals know where to hide them. I need you to strip so I can search all of you."

That didn't sound right. Yami hesitated. "Where exactly do you need to search?"

"Everywhere."

"But..." His eyes flicked around. He didn't see any cameras. 

"Maybe you are too honest to know how to think like a druggie. Maybe you are putting on an act. I will tell you I knew a guy that shot up through a vein in his dick, figuring no one would ever see it." Akhenadin shrugged. "Besides that, fetish wear isn't exactly modest, is it? I won't force you to take off your clothes, but if you won't then the interview will have to be over. This won't work if you aren't comfortable being naked in front of me."

Yami stared incredulously. "His dick?"

"Druggies get desperate."

The things Akhenadin were implying struck Yami's indignation. How could the man look at him and listen to him, and then call him a crack head? But he did have a point about the nature of what he would be modeling. It verged on pornography. Not actual pornography, Yami refused to debase himself by bending over or getting on his knees for anyone, but close. The closest he ever thought he'd get. 

He had dignity. Too much dignity to blush and beg and be embarrassed. Sighing, he stood up and unzipped his shirt. He had to maneuver his undershirt more carefully to get it off without messing up his hair. He usually planned his routines specifically to avoid needing to change his shirt once he had his hair right. Annoying.

He stripped off his socks, bracelets, pants, underwear, until he stood naked in front of the albino stranger. He raised his arms slightly at his sides. There, the gesture said, have a look.

Akhenadin rose from the couch and moved closer. Close enough to smell the coffee on his breath. His hands cupped Yami's jaw and his thumbs pulled lightly at Yami's cheeks as he studied Yami's eyes. Yami stared back, taking in the face behind the thick-rimmed glasses and wild bangs. It surprised him. Under the dorky glasses, too-loose clothes, and unkempt white hair, Akhenadin didn't appear to be much older than Yami himself. "How did you get into this line of work?" Yami asked. 

The albino laughed as he tilted Yami's head back and traced his fingers gently along his jaw and throat. "I don't know how to answer that without sounding conceited." 

"I'll accept the conceited version," Yami answered. Fingers followed his collar bone and hands felt down his arm. 

Akhenadin studied the underside of Yami's elbow, forearm, wrist, between his fingers, his palm. "It's a combination of being a self-starter with natural talent and being in the right place at the right time." 

He lifted Yami's arm and inspected his armpit, fingers touching and stroking in a way that made it hard not to laugh. It tickled. 

Moving to repeat the process on Yami's other arm, he continued, "Shai favors me."

Believing he'd mispronounced a word, Yami repeat, "Shai?"

"He's the Egyptian god of fate. I guess the joke doesn't translate well." 

Akhenadin moved behind Yami. Breath tickled the nape of Yami's neck. The young man bit his lower lip. Once more the sensation had tickled, but not in a way that had been unpleasant. He listened to the other young man's steady breathing as fingers traced the vague lines of his shoulder blades. The places he touched so far had been harmless enough, but what could his upper back possibly have to do with anything?

"Perfectly symmetrical," Akhenadin commented, as though reading Yami's thoughts. A finger followed Yami's spine up to his neck. "I guess I don't need to tell you that you're pretty."

"You said you were looking for track marks." The fingers were nimble on his spine, dancing to the base of it smoothly.

"I am," was the simple answer. 

Hands found their way up Yami's sides, and then a thumb pulled at one of his nipples. Yami twitched backwards impulsively. The movement accidentally pushed him farther into Akhenadin's half-embrace.

"Woah. Watch your balance," Akhenadin laughed lightly. "I'm going to have to warm them up a bit. It's hard to see punctures when their hard like that." 

Two palms, one over each nipple, pressed warmly and unabashedly against Yami's chest. Yami set his jaw, trying not to squirm against the warm body behind him. It didn't help when the albino moved his hand and tugged at Yami's nipple again. The touch tingled. 

"Wow, you are cold." 

The hand covering his other nipple rubbed in a circled. Yami concentrated on controlling his breathing. The touch threatened to have the exact opposite effect, but his composure held. Fingers circled and explored his areolas for maybe another minute before Akhenadin finally step back into his line of sight. 

"Good. Cool. You should sit down. I need to look at your feet."

Yami held eye contact as he lowered himself to the couch, trying to read the other young man's expression. Being face-level with his crotch made Yami somewhat wary and defensive. 

Akhenadin grabbed a slender ankle, lifting Yami's foot high enough that Yami had to almost lie on the couch to make the angle. He kept himself propped up on his elbows, though, refusing to do something so submissive as to get on his back. 

Akhenadin started by checking between each self-pedicured toe. His fingers were light and nimble. He could probably give great foot massages. Yami loved a good foot massage after spending a day walking around in high boots. Not that he could pay for one. When he had an angle he couldn't reach himself his brother, Yugi, usually helped, sweetheart that he was. The sensation of a strange, third party fondling his foot like that had an unexpected effect on him, however, and he bit his lip to suppress a sigh. Trying to stay limp. Resisting the urge to flex and wiggle his toes. Why was he so relaxed? He told himself it was confidence. He didn't have any reason to be tense. Why should he be?

Those hands glided down his calf. Akhenadin leaned closer, inspecting the vague blue lines under the delicate skin in the crease of Yami's knee. Long, white hair swung forward, tickling Yami's thigh. Red eyes flicked to Yami's face for a moment the length of a small smile and a single nod. Then the fondling started on Yami's other foot. An act that simultaneously seemed to go on forever and end too soon. 

"Sit up and spread your legs," Akhenadin said. "Please..." Awkwardly tacked on like a half-remembered afterthought.

Yami sat up slowly, turning the face the pale man as he sat on the coffee table opposite him. 

"Yeah, the awkward part. Has to happen. Let's just get it done."

Yami slouched a little and parted his knees, bracing his feet on either side of the albino. The wan smile and dismissive shrug helped ease his mood a bit more. At least Akhenadin didn't look overly eager. He leaned forward, fingering the creases at the tops of Yami's thighs. The backs of his fingers brushed Yami's scrotum. Yami took a breath, and then let out a sharp, involuntary gasp as Akhenadin full-on cupped his testicles. 

Eyes flicked up, watching Yami over the tops of their glasses. "Did that hurt?"

Yami shook his head. It didn't hurt. Quite the opposite. But he couldn't think about that.

Akhenadin looked down. His thumb rubbed and pressed gently. Yami's eyes went wide as his face flushed. At least the other young man wasn't looking at him right now. Yami tilted his head, trying to hide behind his bangs. The agile hands fondling his testicles kept drawing his eyes. He decided his initial reaction to the touch had been more startled than anything, and that watching would help him keep level. He was wrong. A hand moved to his shaft, and he found himself holding his breath as it casually grabbed him. 

Akhenadin leaned closer. A curtain of white hair obscured Yami's view. He felt fingers coaxing his cock out of his foreskin. Felt the side of a thumb press under the ridge at the head. Yami's fingers and toes curled. He was getting hard. He didn't need to see to know. But Akhenadin never said anything about it, even when precum slicked his fingers. Just kept feeling and stroking and pressing and searching...

The other young man stopped. Yami struggled with the heat splashing his cheeks, trying to look composed. Akhenadin lifted his balls again.

"Can you turn around?" Akhenadin asked.

Turn around. Turning his back should've made him feel vulnerable, but the excuse to look way relieved him. The arousal painted all over his face probably looked ridiculously unprofessional next to the clinical detachment on Akhenadin's face. Yami put both knees on the couch and crossed his arms on the back, keeping his posture as straight as possible. As far as he heard, Akhenadin remained seated. The cupping and fondling didn't startle him so much this time, either. But the touch moved higher by millimeters, until he felt a digit circle the last place he expected to let anyone touch. He wasn't a virgin. However, he was hard pressed to find a way to make accepting anal attention dignified enough for his tastes. 

"Do you bleach?" Akhenadin asked.

"No." He almost blushed. Why was Akhenadin asking? Should he have? He kept himself very clean, but he hadn't thought to do much else. Hadn't thought anyone would see enough for it to matter.

"Trim?"

"A little, I suppose. Why?" Rubbing now, the digit pressing a bit harder than before. Yami thought about pulling away, but he didn't want to look skittish and it didn't really feel bad. 

"You have a really nice butt hole. Had you ever considered modeling toys?"

He said it so casually. Like it wasn't a rather bizarre thing to say. "Wouldn't that violate censorship laws?"

"Min's Oasis is an international distributor. Some customers really like seeing pictures for scale, fit, and such. It's a unique service that many other online retailers don't offer. If the legality concerns you, you can rest assured that all of our Japanese servers comply with local censorship laws."

The whole time he talked, Akhenadin never stopped touching him. As Yami wished he knew enough about censorship on the internet to confirm the other young man's story, a more distracted part of him wondered what that finger would feel like sliding inside him.

"It is more difficult work, but I pay extra for it," Akhenadin continued. 

"Isn't 'modeling toys' just porn?" Yami asked, clinging to any line of thought that might get his mind off that finger. 

"By that logic, modeling fetish wear would also be porn, wouldn't it? Or swim suits? No one takes pictures of a model in anything without intending for those pictures to be attractive in some way."

He wasn't wrong. Attractive people were attractive regardless. Yami remembered when he'd first discovered masturbation. He'd found a travel magazine with ads for some beach resort. Sun-kissed men laughing on the beach, abs gleaming with sweat and lotion... 

"Hey. Truthfully, you're pretty, you're confident, you're creative, and you're obviously clean. I like you and I'm probably going to hire you. I've got some new toys I was taking pictures of last night. If you want to play around with them, no cameras, no pressure, just to get a feel of what it's like, I've got some free time."

Yami hesitated. He had always been curious about fancy toys that he couldn't afford. He wasn't sure about masturbating in front of Akhenadin.

"Look." Akhenadin retrieved something from a table surrounded by small curtains and lighting equipment. The object fit in the palm of his hand. A metal butt plug with a jeweled base. "Pretty, isn't it? Almost like jewelry. Let's see what it looks like."

It was pretty. Small. Tasteful. "Do you have lube?"

"I'll see what I can find."

And that was how Yami found himself with one foot on the floor and one knee on the couch, slowly working the ovoid metal ball past the slicked ring of muscle. Past a certain point, the thing suddenly seemed to move on its own, popping inside. Yami gasped, clenching.

"Did that hurt?" Akhenadin did sound concerned.

Yami shook his head. "It feels strange. I was surprised."

"Show it to me?"

Yami's brow tightened. 

"I mean like you would if you were modeling it. I want to see what you can do."

Yami maneuvered to face the back of the couch again. He'd decided the position wasn't so bad. Spreading his legs and arching his spine, he barely had to bend over at all. He felt pretty, all smooth, well-tended skin, with a sparkle of treasure between his perfect cheeks. 

"Oh, beautiful." The albino pushed the Japanese teenagers cheeks apart, adjusting the gem with a thumb. 

Yami sighed, impulsively pushing back so that the thumb pressed harder. 

Akhenadin's hands lingered, squeezing. "You should see yourself," he said.

Yami watched him disappear in to the bathroom and return with a wall mirror. Yami eyed his reflection over his shoulder, running a hand up the back of his own leg. He did look good. Felt sexy as hell. 

"I'm telling you, you were made for this," Akhenadin continued. "People would love you."

As Yami clenched around the toy, his cock throbbed. "You said you had more toys?"

"Hm," the albino nodded once. "What are you thinking? Something else shiny?" He brought the whole box to the coffee table. His hand dipped in, and then withdrew holding a shiny glass plug. It was a cone of three spheres, getting larger toward the base. 

It sat heavy and cool in Yami's hand. The size of it made him curious. Would the last ball fit? It must, at least for some people. Yami doused the clear toy with clear gel. 

The first segment went in about as easily as the first plug. A little easier, even, like his body missed the foreign presence and wanted more. He struggled more with the second segment, mostly due to a combination of the angle, the weight, and the slickness. He pressed the base with his fingers. Pressed harder. 

Once more, the toy seemed to lurch forward on its own as his muscle expanded around the thickest part and then clamped tight around the second dip. Yami moaned audibly, losing his grip. The toy almost fell out, but another hand caught it. Akhenadin. Panting, Yami rocked forward and back. Akhenadin followed him with the toy, neither pushing it deeper nor letting it fall out. 

"I told you it was harder work." 

Yami breathed deeply, clenching his fists in the plush, faux leather. The glass warmed inside of him.

"You need to be slower." Akhenadin very slowly removed the second ball and then shoved it back in. 

Yami's breath shuddered. He wanted to touch himself. Instinct told him that would make it better. So much better. He still hesitated. He didn't want to make a mess on the couch. What even was... this?

"Your butt will relax and open on its own."

Yes. Slowly. Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly. In... then out. In... then out. Like Yami's breathing. In... out... Then in... and in more. Yami spread his legs wider, holding still. More. More. And then his body grabbed the third ball, too. The final ball. He cried out as the toy settled into place. Snug. Secure. He squirmed, cock straining needily at the air. The tip brushed the back of the couch, causing Yami's breath to hitch again. The thought of how nice it would feel to keep grinding the fake leather flitted through his mind and he almost blushed. 

"Look," Akhenadin said in a low voice. 

Yami turned his head, eyes drawn to the mirror. To the glass tunnel of pink darkening to red darkening to black. It didn't hurt, and it wasn't as gross or messy as he expected. 

"I have things that vibrate, too," Akhenadin said. On cue, a soft buzz filled the room. "If that's what you prefer."

The albino step up behind him. He traced the g-spot vibrator from the bottom of Yami's testicles, up his taint, and stopped at the glass plug. The toy made a clattering sound against the glass. A moan overwrote any answer Yami might have provided. Akhenadin didn't seem to require any other answer. The toy tickled and teased Yami's balls as Akhenadin pulled at the plug's base. Just as the widest part started to come out, the toy slipped and sank right back in. 

"Hm. I don't think your ass wants to let it go."

"Th- this is..." Yami gritted his teeth, hating the tremor in his voice. It felt way too good. "I think I need a moment." 

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but... I need to clear my head and catch my breath."

Akhenadin moved away, and then appeared in front of Yami holding the glass of water. "It's cool. Unwanted erections happen. I understand."

Yami took the water, settling back to sip at it. Bad idea. The plug shifted, sending another jolt of pleasure through him. 

"In the future, unchambering a few rounds before a shoot helps a lot. For the present, don't worry about doing whatever makes you comfortable. I want you to be comfortable. People perform a lot better that way, don't you think?"

Surely Akhenadin wasn't suggesting that Yami jerk off in front of him. "Okay," was all he said. Akhenadin smiled and nodded once, taking the empty glass. 

Relax. Get comfortable. Why not? They were only testing toys, and if this turned out to be a job that could also be fun and enjoyable, wasn't that a good thing? Akhenadin was treating the whole situation casually enough, and he didn't seem put off by any of Yami's reactions. 

The glass plug eased out of him with a slick pop. The vibrator replaced it. Ooooh, yeeess... After a bit, Yami allowed his hand to inch toward his cock. He initially intended to keep it from dripping on Akhenadin's couch. Gradually his grip tightened, until he found himself massaging his cock with small, subtle movements. 

Akhenadin either didn't notice or didn't care. He switch from toy to toy, fucking Yami with each in turn. Fucking? That's what it felt like. Pumping each one in and out with his fist. Yami swallowed as much of his pleased grunting as he could, but the albino must have caught some of it.

"Do you like this one?" He asked. 

Yami didn't trust himself to do anything except nod. A hand settled on his back, right between his perfect shoulder blades. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow, flushed all over. "Nnm..." His body shuddered, squirming. One of his feet brushed Akhenadin's leg, but he was too distracted by the tension in his groin to notice. The toy moved faster as the hand on his back moved to grip his shoulder. Yami's own hand matched pace without any conscious instruction. 

"I think I'm going to cum," he whispered. He waited for Akhenadin to tell him not to, but the other young man didn't say anything. "I am. I am, oh, god..." The intrusion suddenly crammed in deep. Yami unwound, shuddering and clenching around around it. He rocked, riding the length of it as jizz dribbled over his hand.

Akhenadin's grip pulsed on his shoulder, clenching, loosening, clenching... and then it slid down and away. "Don't worry about the mess. I'll clean it up."

Yami waited until he could breathe evenly, and then lifted his head. The albino puttered about the table, collecting the toys they'd used into a plastic bin. 

Akhenadin straightened up, grinning. "I like you a lot, Mutousan. How do you feel?"

"Tired," Yami answered truthfully. Though groggy would have been more accurate.

The smile tugged down at the corners. "Can you get yourself home?"

"Um... Yes." He blinked, shaking his head. "It's only a bus ride. I do it all the time."

"If you say so." Akhenadin carried the tub to the sink. "It would be a shame if something happened to you on the way home. I'm really excited about working with you."

Yami's head perked up as the fog swimming through his head parted for a moment. "You want to hire me?"

"Did you have doubts?" Akhenadin laughed. "I mean, I still have to sort out some of the technical specifics of the project, set up contracts and all that, but you should hear from me before the end of the month."

"Thank you. I'm excited too."

His heart fluttered as he dressed and made his way down the stairs. He stumbled a little, unconsciously leaning on the banister for balance. A job. With pay. A weird one, but a foot in the door was a foot in the door. Maybe Akhenadin knew more people, and...

He paused on the sidewalk. He'd meant to ask, hadn't he? If Akhenadin had worked with anyone else, and who. After all that, he still didn't know anything about the young man, except that he took photographs for a website that sold sex toys and fetish gear. Should he have...

Another wave of grogginess threatened his balance. He still had Akhenadin's contact information. He could email him tomorrow. For now, he seriously needed to get home and lie down. All of the excitement and adrenaline must have really done him in.


End file.
